However, its not all orchids and orchid chasing in Kent an in hour house; oh no. There are butterflies too. And it just happens one of the best places in the country to see one of Britain's rarest, the Heath Fritillary, which can be found the other side of Canterbury. We had been there to see them before, we knew the way, what could go wrong?
Well, we shall see.
Anyway, after confirming the route, we blasted off to Canterbury up the A2, filling up at Whitfield with unleaded, and shocked to see how fuel was already creeping back up in price, now £1.13 a litre, and likely to rise much further.

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One final Frit was basking on a fern leaf, so I bent down to take shots of that too, when it was joined by a second, which, unusually, did not result in both flying around fighting, but they basked side by side for a few seconds before one thought better of it.

Possibly the most attractive of the Kentish Orchids is the Marsh Hellebroine, which can only be found at one location, at Sandwich Bay. And as I had seen some shots of the spikes already open, I had been wanting to get over there as soon as possible. And a visit last week resulted in not being able to go to the site due to bird ringing. So, I was now really, really wanting to see them.
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So we walk over the road, and we swap news and stories about or hobbies; birds and recording for them, and orchid madness for me.
After walking past the empty nets, Jools and I were allowed to walk on to the orchids, where after a short search, we found the right dune slacks and spotted the orchids, many of which were yet to unfurl and open. But many were opening, or opening to make the trip worthwhile, so I get down to take a few shots. Not many just enough to records this season. Mixed in were many Southern Marsh, already turning brown from the bottom of their spikes. There was a fine group of seven spikes, so I snap that, and it seems that I am done. I mean I could have stayed for ages, but I had the shots I wanted.
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It was Jools' niece's birthday; does that make sense? And we were invited to a bbq. So, at half one we go into town to attend it, in Mikes sloping garden, where is hard work in transforming the house is nearly complete. It is good to mix with people, but then Brexit is not far from the surface in most conversations, and I was asked how it might affect my job. I reply that we haven't left the EU yet, or even begin to leave and are unlikely to leave. This annoyed my sister-in-law somewhat, who demanded that the non-binding referendum be honoured with destroying the country, even if it was based on lies. We voted, its only right. Or something. This is like someone deciding to have their leg amputated, a doctor telling the patient its a bad idea, but still demanding their leg be cut off.
Jane stepped in and said politics was banned, a sensible thing, really.
We left just after three, heading to Tesco to buy some toilet rolls and other stuff that we had managed to forget on the two previous trips shopping over the weekend.
Back home in time for a coffee and a pistachio Magnum in the garden in the late afternoon sunshine. Which was rather lovely I have to say.
More football in the evening, the last quarter-final, and France took Iceland apart in the 1st half to lead 4-0 at the break. But Iceland fought back, and scored twice and had three great other chances, but failed to take them, losing 5-2, but not disgraced. What this says about an England side that lost 2-1 to them is another thing of course....
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